


Beyond the Here and Now

by uvcat (Strange_Soulmates)



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-03 21:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17291855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strange_Soulmates/pseuds/uvcat
Summary: While traveling to the Von Wincott estate to take up his new position as an instructor, Conrart Weller meets and rescues a stranger who seems to know him. Conrart feels compelled to protect this man, but how can he keep him safe when Yuuri keeps so many secrets?Takes place both after season 3 and before Conrad meets Julia.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An old story I've begun updating again, so I thought I should post it here. Still trying to find my footing on the character's voices again. Title from Trading Yesterday's "One Day".

"Conrad!" an unfamiliar voice called.

If the use of a name saved for only his dearest friends hadn't turned his head, the tone of pure relief that only came in the wake of the deepest desperation would have been more than enough.

A young man stood in an alleyway, hands resting on his thighs as he panted, clearly trying to catch his breath. His clothes, for all that they had once been good quality, were torn and dirty. Conrart's eyes narrowed. That wasn't typical wear and tear. Those were the signs of a man who'd been through an ordeal, and recently. He stared at the bent brown head, brows furrowed. Who could this man be?

And then the man looked up, and Conrart knew all at once that they had never met before. That face, those eyes, that smile…he would have remembered. Because for all that something seemed odd about the man's coloring, he was breathtaking.

But as those brown eyes met Conrart's own, they widened in shock, the smile falling away to be replaced by a disbelieving, horrified expression.

"Are you alright?" Conrart asked, moving towards the man automatically.

"Ah…I'm sorry," the man before him said, and Conrart watched as the man attempted and almost succeeded in reconstructing his crumpled expression into something bland. "I thought you were someone I knew. I'm fine. Sorry again for disturbing you,"

The man turned to go, and everything in Conrart cried out in denial. To let anyone go off alone in this state was against his nature. To let the man before him leave at all, let alone like this, caused his very soul to rebel. Conrart closed the space between them with two quick strides, his outstretched hand closing around the boy's shoulder.

The look he received in response immediately had him softening his expression, for all that his grip remained tight.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently.

Conrart never had the chance to hear the man's response, whatever it might have been. Instincts honed through years of traveling with his father and on the front lines of the battlefield had him reacting to the threat before he had fully finished processing it. He pulled the boy back sharply and cut quickly in front of him as he drew his sword.

His instincts had not failed him. No sooner had he positioned himself in front of the stranger, sword at the ready, than three figures appeared in the alleyway, heavily cloaked with covered faces and drawn weapons. At the sight of Conrart, they all froze.

"I thought we'd gotten rid of his protectors," Conrart heard one of them hiss.

This, at least, explained the state of the man's clothes. And a great deal of his desperation. That the man needed protectors said a great deal. That he had been separated from them, by force from the obvious signs, explained a great deal more.

Conrart adjusted his stance to more thoroughly block the man behind him from both view and harm, eyes narrowing and lip curling. If the man was someone in need of protecting, then Conrart would protect him. And Conrart Weller did nothing by halves.

Some of this must have shown in his expression, for the men before him paused. It was the last mistake they ever made. Conrart darted forward, sword parting flesh with the ease of practice, no hesitation on the part of the man who wielded it. The bodies had yet to hit the ground before he returned to his original position. Sword still in hand, he bent over and grabbed the stunned man's arm, yanking him into an upright position.

"Come with me," he said, tone made sharp by the situation. "There could be more of them."

The man looked up at him with wide, wet eyes. Studying his expression at length, he simply nodded.

Conrart tugged the man out of the alley and into the street. The crowds would be the best way to throw off any pursuers. But that meant doing their best to blend in, and to do so he would have to sheath his sword, as much as the thought galled him. He put it off as long as possible, but as their circuitous route finally brought them to the main street, he had no choice.

He spared a moment to curse the mild weather – had it been colder or wetter he might have had a cloak. It would have been put to good use covering Conrart's companion. After all, Conrart was not the one being pursued. Obscuring their true target as much as possible, drawing as little attention to him as possible – both would help Conrart keep him safe.

With this in mind, he reluctantly sheathed his sword. Conrart let his hand drop from around the man's bicep and gripped his hand instead, ignoring the slightly strangled noise the man made as he guided them out into the street. To the rest of the world, they would simply look like a pair of lovers out for a stroll.

There were callouses against his palm, Conrart realized. The fact in and of itself was not surprising; even the most elite of the ten nobles might have marks from sword work. What was surprising was the placement – Conrart was familiar with callouses from hard labor and from sword work both. These corresponded with neither.

It was not his place to wonder, Conrart reminded himself firmly. However, in his new role as protector, there were things it was his place to know. And at that moment, one question trumped all the rest.

"You know my name," Conrart said, keeping his tone light and a placid expression on his face as he leaned closer, the better to maintain the illusion. "But I have not yet been granted the privilege of your own."

The man beside him blanched, looking for a moment as if he had been struck.

Conrart reacted without thinking, tugging the man close into what appeared to be an embrace from an outside perspective. In reality, it allowed Conrart to shield the man while assessing for threats.

"No, I'm fine," the man muttered into his chest. "I…Yuuri. My name is Yuuri."

Conrart waited for a family name, a title, but it soon became clear that more was not forthcoming. Conrart found himself almost approving. For all that he would not harm Yuuri, the young man had no way of knowing he could be trusted. He would simply have to prove to Yuuri that Conrart would keep his confidences safe as well as his person. Still, there was some information he felt compelled to press for.

"Who were they, Yuuri?" Conrart asked, once again fighting to keep his voice even and expression bland at the memory of the men who had pursued Yuuri.

Yuuri's eyes fell, and Conrart could feel the man begin to withdraw, both emotionally and physically. Conrart tightened his grip, pulling Yuuri tight up against his chest, relishing the warmth of him. Reaching down, he angled Yuuri's face upwards once again, forcing their eyes to meet. Yuuri had honest eyes, and Conrart wanted the truth. Sparing a quick thought for the sight they must make, he reached out to brush Yuuri's hair back from his face, allowing his hand to cup Yuuri's cheek. Yuuri's skin was smooth and warm against his palm, but even that could not distract him from what Yuuri's hair had felt like against his fingers.

Dye, or a wig. Conrart was not certain which. He was certain that this was not Yuuri's natural hair.

Who are you Yuuri? Conrart wondered. What are you hiding from?

Conrart knew at least part of the answer to the second question. "Those men were trying to kill you," he said, and his voice was cold even to his own ears.

Yuuri's eyes slid down, but a slight increase in the pressure from the palm against his cheek had those eyes locked on Conrart's once again.

"Yes," he said softly, and those eyes were indignant, hurt, and resigned all at once. But under that, as if Yuuri were trying to hide it, they were above all, scared.

There was more he needed to know, but it was paramount he get Yuuri off the streets. Still, that fear touched something in him, and he vowed to do everything he could to banish it.

"I will protect you," Conrart promised, staring into those eyes.

They widened in surprise before filling with an affection that tugged at Conrart's heart in unfamiliar ways.

"I know you will," Yuuri replied, his voice fond, and his cheek as he pressed it more firmly against Conrart's palm was almost as warm as his smile.

And with that smile, with that tender display of trust, Conrart felt the walls he had so carefully cultivated around his heart come tumbling down.


	2. Chapter 2

Conrart pressed himself against the wall, his hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword as he peered out the window into the street. His sharp eyes spotted nothing out of the ordinary in the street below. He let the curtain fall back and allowed his hand to relax, but that was as far as he permitted his guard to fall. Yuuri's life was in danger, and he would not allow himself to forget that for even a moment.

He turned, propping himself up against the wall so that he could see out the window from the corner of his eye and crossed his arms, bringing his dominant hand all the closer to his sword. His gaze, however, was fixed unerringly on the man he had sworn to protect.

His timing was atrocious. Yuuri had already exchanged his trousers for the pair that had been purchased in town, but Conrart had turned just in time to see the stained, battered undershirt clear Yuuri's shoulders.

Conrart's mouth went dry, and a noise of some sort must have escaped his throat without his consent, because Yuuri turned around, a concerned expression on his face.

"Conrart? Is something wrong?" he asked.

Yes, he thought as he fought to keep his eyes from roaming across Yuuri's exposed skin and hating himself for needing to. Something is very wrong. His self control failed him, and his gaze wandered. Any impure thoughts were immediately overridden by what he found.

"You're hurt," he said, voice devoid of both the overwhelming anger and gripping fear that the sight of the small gash across Yuuri's shoulder evoked in him.

He found himself walking forward without conscious thought, eyes roving across Yuuri's body, this time not in a gaze of desire but in a careful search for further injuries.

He found them. The wound he'd noticed first was by far the worst, but Yuuri's upper body was littered with scrapes, scratches, and bruises.

"I'm fine," Yuuri protested just as Conrart reached him. "It's nothing." Yuuri's hands grasped his new shirt and he made as if to pull it on.

Conrart reached forward and grasped his wrist gently but firmly, preventing him from doing so. "Allow me to be the judge of that."

Yuuri's cheeks were stained red and he refused to meet Conrart's gaze, but he nodded.

Yuuri had been correct, the wounds were minor. The worst of them had been the one that had caught Conrart's attention to begin with. Still, the story the marks told was one that filled him with righteous anger. Taking a deep breath and pushing the emotion down, he reached behind him and grabbed his pack without faltering in his examination.

"Umm…Conrad," Yuuri said, his voice soft.

Conrart's eyes drifted back up Yuuri's torso until they met the young man's own.

"Can I get my hand back?" he asked with a sheepish grin, and Conrart felt him tug lightly against the grip Conrart hadn't realized he still had around Yuuri's wrist.

He could feel Yuuri's pulse fluttering against his fingers, and he abruptly released his hand, feeling as if he'd been burned. Conrart tore his gaze away from Yuuri's, focusing on the contents of his pack, taking the opportunity to ground himself. He needed to remain firmly focused on the task at hand—keeping Yuuri safe. Being distracted now could be costly, and Conrart already knew he wasn't willing to pay the price for being less than vigilant.

And if he wanted to protect his charge as effectively as possible, there were things he needed to know. Conrart pulled a few vials out of his pack to treat Yuuri's injuries as he pondered the best way to get the information he needed.

"Conrad, really, I'm fine," Yuuri said, eyeing the items Conrart had just removed. "Those supplies…you should save them for someone who really needs them."

Conrart looked up to argue, but something in the stubborn set of Yuuri's jaw told him it would be useless. Compromise, then.

"Let me disinfect the cut, at least. The rest look like they were…" he struggled to find a word that would convey his meaning without his anger, "circumstantial. But that one was more," his lips curled around the word, "purposeful." He took a moment to suppress the rage before continuing. "Unless I miss my guess?"

Yuuri didn't meet his gaze, nor did he respond. After a long pause, he nodded. It was probably meant to be an affirmation of Conrart's guess, but he took it as permission. Pouring the solution from one of the vials onto a clean cloth, he reached out and gently pressed it against Yuuri's skin.

Yuuri let out a hiss of pain, and Conrart pulled back at once, staring at him concern.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," Yuuri said, shaking his head. "The knife barely nicked me. It just stings."

Conrart pulled his eyes away from Yuuri's face and focused again on the cut, placing the cloth against his skin as carefully as he could.

"How did it happen?" he asked, dabbing carefully at the wound.

"I got separated from my friends and…" Conrart felt the chest under his hand move as Yuuri took a deep breath. "I managed to dodge, and then I ran but…" Another breath, this one more unsteady than the last.

"Your friends?" Conrart's mind flashed back to the comment he'd heard in the alley about separating Yuuri from his protectors. Were these protectors the friends Yuuri spoke of? "Are they looking for you?"

Conrart pulled back, cut well and truly disinfected, and watched with disappointment and relief warring in his chest as Yuuri tugged the fresh shirt over his head.

"I'm sure they are," he said, but his smile was sad. "And they're…very determined. A bit too determined, at times." Yuuri's expression went dark as his eyes filled with pain, his eyes distant. "But… the people you ran into before. They used something, Majitsu or Hojistu, I'm not sure which, and transported me away from everyone." His eyes fixed on Conrart's own and he let out a weak laugh. "A lot farther than I'd thought. I didn't realize quite how far until I ran into you."

Yuuri's breath hitched.

"I…I didn't know where I was and I was worried about everyone and…I thought I really would die and no matter how hard I tried there would be nothing I could do to stop it. And then I saw you and I…" Yuuri's voice broke, and his shoulders shook.

Conrart moved without thought, reaching out and pulling Yuuri to him. He felt Yuuri stiffen in his arms and immediately began berating himself. Stupid, to have assumed that Yuuri would welcome comfort from him, of all people, a human half-breed and a stranger. Foolish to think that even if he desired Conrart's comfort, he would accept it in this form. Pulling away would take a great deal of strength, but Conrart knew he would find it. Just a few moments more. A few moments more of holding Yuuri. A few moments more, and then he could make himself let go.

But in those few moments, Yuuri slowly went from stiff to limp, and his face buried itself in the crook of Conrart's shoulder as his body shook with soundless sobs. His hands fisted in the material of Conrart's shirt and he could feel his collar growing damp. Wordlessly, Conrart reached out, cradling Yuuri's head to his chest with one hand and letting his other come to rest against Yuuri's back.

The sobs eased off in a matter of minutes, and when Conrart reluctantly pulled away to check on his charge, he was shocked to find him asleep. It wasn't so astonishing that the day's events would have left Yuuri drained both mentally and physically. What Conrart marveled at was the trust inherent in such an act. That Yuuri feels safe enough around him to allow himself to be this vulnerable…it was unthinkable.

It took him far longer than it should to gently arrange Yuuri on the bed, pulling the covers over his sleeping form. Conrart lingered at the bedside for a moment, his fingers falling forward to brush Yuuri's hair from his face.

He retreated quickly across the room, placing himself once again on the wall beside the window, staring down at the sleeping figure on the bed. It had only been a few hours, and yet it already felt as if his entire world had shifted, with Yuuri now firmly at the center.

As he stood vigil, Conrart contemplated the problem of keeping Yuuri safe and of getting him home.

He resolutely ignored the voice asking what would become of him once Yuuri was gone.

Conrart Weller's happiness had never mattered. Especially to himself.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 Conrart was jerked roughly out of the half-aware state perfected on countless nights on watch by the sound of a cry from across the room. His sword was in his hand and he was across the room, eyes scanning desperately for a foe but finding none. In the pale glow of the moonlight, he instead found Yuuri sitting straight up in bed, clutching at his chest in pain.

Conrart shoved his sword into its scabbard as he sprinted across the room, one hand falling to Yuuri's shoulder as he fell to one knee beside the bed.

"Yuuri!" Conrart said, desperately searching for some sign of injury. "Yuuri, what's wrong?"

There was no blood that Conrart could see, or any evidence of any injury. But the agony in his eyes made it obvious that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

"Conrad..." Yuuri croaked, his voice choked with pain.

One of the hands clenched in front of his chest reached out, trembling, and Conrart found himself reaching back without thought, taking Yuuri's hand within his own. The delicate fingers with unfamiliar callouses wrapped around his hand, squeezing tightly in a search for reassurance. Conrart held firm.

A faint glow, somewhere between blue and purple began to seep from Yuuri's skin, most of it centered around his chest, and as Conrart felt his hairs stand on end, he suddenly understood.

Majustu. Yuuri's Majitsu, no doubt seeking out whatever it was that pained him so.

There was nothing Conrart could do to help. He was powerless in this, in every sense of the word. So he held Yuuri's hand as firmly as he dared, desperate to offer what little support he could, helpless to do anything else.  Until at last the glow faded, and he could see Yuuri once more, panting hard, eyes still clouded with pain.

"What's wrong?" Conrart said again, making sure to keep his desperate worry from his voice, though unable to hide the depth of his concern.

"I don't know," Yuuri said, his face clouded with worry.  "It just...it hurts."

"What hurts?" Conrart pressed him.  He'd seen no serious cuts save the one on Yuuri's back, and the bruises had all seemed minor.  But that had been hours ago.  There could be some internal injury that he hadn't seen upon first inspection.  If his carelessness cost Yuuri his life...

"My...my soul," he said, frowning, before shaking his head.  "No.  This is more like...my maryoku?" he said, a puzzled expression on his face.  "But that makes no sense."

Conrart froze, horrified.  It made perfect sense to him.  He'd heard those complaints before, while in training.  Had seen this same desperate pain on the faces of fellow soldiers in the academy.  Those of pure Demon Tribe blood.  The ones with elemental pacts, when they were exposed to houseki.

"The people who attacked you," Conrart said.  "You said you weren't certain if they used Majustu or Hojustu," he said, his mind already flying through the problem.

Yuuri gave him a wry smile, though Conrart could see his exhaustion in the edges of it.

"I have enemies.  Mazoku and human both," he said.

"Tell me about what happened," Conrart said, shifting so that he could perch beside Yuuri on the bed.  "As much detail as you can remember."

Yuuri nodded once before he closed his eyes, face scrunching up in concentration. 

"We were in Caloria," Yuuri said slowly, "visiting a friend."

Conrart kept his face blank, but the name of the human territory surprised him.  Three were very few mazou who were willing to travel to human lands.  Those in Shimaron even more so.  Mazoku were notorious for their views of superiority to humans.  Conrart rarely met one who had traveled beyond their borders, except for those in the armed forces.  With tensions between Shimaron and Shin Makoko rising, travel to human territories on that continent had become more dangerous.  Most Mazuku would be arrested on sight.

That, perhaps, explained the disguise.  But not what Yuuri had been doing in Caloria in the first place.

"We stopped in a town along the way to resupply," Yuuri said, staring down at his lap.  "But someone had found out about our travel plans."

"An ambush?" Conrart asked.

"Yeah," Yuuri said, eyes downcast.

Conrart squeezed the hand that was still within his own gently, trying to reassure the man before him.  He was rewarded for his efforts with a small, pain-filled smile, and Conrart felt himself softening.

It had been a long time since his touch had offered anyone comfort. Not since Wolfram had discovered his heritage and had turned away from him in disgust had he been able to calm someone with only the comfort of contact.

Still, Yuuri was able to read him almost distressingly well, for how little time they had spent together. Conrart could tell that his touch had provided comfort, yes. But the smile was just as much for his sake as it was for Yuuri's. The young man had no doubt sensed his concern, and, even in the face of his own discomfort, was trying to alleviate it.

Yuuri, it seemed, was the kind to put the needs of others before his own. Even strangers he had only just met. Conrart would have to watch him closely to ensure that he kept nothing hidden, thinking it would only trouble those around him.

"Their faces were covered," Yuuri said, and his gaze had dropped to his lap once more. His grip, though, was tight. Clinging to Conrart, as if he was the only thing anchoring him. "But there were nearly a dozen of them. I had been walking with..." he stumbled over the names, biting his lip as he cast Conrart a nervous glance, "my godfather," he settled on at last. "My godfather and his brother. I wanted to explore the market while we resupplied, and a merchant there took me into a back room. It seemed harmless enough," Yuuri told him, giving Conrart an arch look as if he somehow sensed his disapproval. "Even when I'm like this," he said, gesturing at his face, "it's obvious I have money. People try to sell me things. I thought that's all this was."

His face turned even sadder.

"I wanted to buy a present for my daughter," he said at last. "She was sick, so she couldn't travel with us. I promised I would bring her something to make up for it."

He closed his eyes in obvious pain, and Conrart was grateful for it. It allowed him a moment to shore up his defenses once more. Foolish, to have hoped in the first place. A man like Yuuri would never be interested in a half-breed like him. He had known better than to hope. At least he thought he had. But the pain the mention of Yuuri's daughter caused showed otherwise.

"Thank god," Yuuri said, his face filled with a desperate relief. "Thank god she was sick. If Greta had been there..." he trailed off a truly anguished expression on his face, but he quick shook his head, as if shaking off the thought.

"They took me to a back room to show me a display," he said again. "And then there were men everywhere, in masks. Attacking. When my friends were distracted, the shopkeeper..." Yuuri reached up and touched his shoulder, wincing with remembered pain. "He stabbed me."

"With a sword?" Conrart asked, eyes narrowed as he realized they'd come to the part of the tale that held the information he needed.

Yuuri shook his head.

"A knife."

"What was it made of?" Conrart demanded.

Yuuri gave him an odd look but he answered. "It was just a regular knife.  "They told me to run," Yuuri said. "My friends. They told me to run, and I did. But only to go get help. There were other people around who would have helped us. But before I could..."

He trailed off, an odd look on his face.

"They herded me into a blind alley," he said. "And then one of them threw something at me. A vial, with something inside it. It shattered on me, and some of it got on the people who were closest to me. And then I was here."

He had a deep frown on his face.

"I just don't understand why," he said. "There were easier ways to kill me. I was all alone at that point. This seems like a lot of trouble for something so simple."

Conrart agreed. A great deal of trouble, if all they wanted was the man before him dead. But it was also clear to him that Yuuri couldn't be trusted to assess a situation accurately. Not when it came to strategy. After all, what kind of person called his guards his friends? Yuuri clearly didn't see himself the way others did.

"Do you know what was in the vial?" Conrart asked him.

Yuuri shook his head.

"No. I just assumed that it was what brought me here."

Conrart closed his eyes for a moment, considering everything that Yuuri had told him from all the angles.  Some kind of potion, made using Hoseki? It would explain Yuuri's reaction to it, even now. Wounds from the vial would have given the potion access to his bloodstream. It wouldn't take much to cause discomfort.  But there was something still missing, a piece he  still needed.

"You were in human lands," he said, landing on what had bothered him so much. "Why do you think it could have been Majustu? It can't be used on human lands. Not easily."

"The thing in the shop," Yuuri said. "What made me go in in the first place. It was a demon stone."

Conrart cast a sharp look at Yuuri at that. A demon stone in human lands? It was true that under normal circumstances it was nearly impossible for Mazoku to use majustu outside of Shin Makoku, but a demon stone could have changed that. He'd seen other demon artifacts used on human lands before, after all.

Whatever it was that had happened, Conrart needed more information. And the only people who could have provided it he'd left dead in an alleyway.

He would investigate himself, but Yuuri needed protecting, and Conrart had made himself a promise. Until the man's other protectors could be found, Conrart would keep him safe. Yuuri had trusted him, and it was a trust he didn't intend to betray.

But Yuuri needed help. The kind of help that Conrart was ill equipped to provide. There was something wrong with his magic, which meant that he needed to be seen by those with magic to heal him.

It seemed that he would be traveling to the Wincott estate after all.

Which meant he would have to leave the information gathering in the hands of someone else. And as far as Conrart was concerned, there was only one man for the job.

"It'll be alright, Yuuri," Conrart told the young man who still clung to his hand, his shoulders shaking with barely there tremors. Without meaning to, he found himself releasing Yuuri's hand in favor of pulling the other man against him once more.

Yuuri had found solace in his arms before. He had taken comfort in just the grasp of his hand. Perhaps this would soothe him more.

Conrart ignored the way something within him settled at having the young man close, within the shelter of his arms. The way he seemed to fit against his side, almost as if he were made for the space. This was for Yuuri's sake and his sake alone.

"I know," Yuuri said, staring up at Conrart with a smile on his face. For all that it was fragile, it was real, full of warmth and trust. "I'm with you, after all."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which young Conrart is full of angst and our favorite spy starts putting things together.

 He waited until Yuuri fell asleep once more before he left. It galled him to do so, but they had been safe enough in the inn so far, and there were preparations he needed to make. Better to make them now. After all, Conrart Weller was no one interesting. There would be no one who would pay him much mind. He was just a half breed, after all. Yuuri, however, with his striking looks, would have garnered more attention. Even if his pursuers didn't catch sight of him, he would have been far more memorable. They were much less likely to be tracked if Conrart made the preparations.

Downstairs the wasn't quite deserted, still early enough that the tavern was crowded with people enjoying food and drink. Conrart made his way to the woman manning the desk, a smile he knew most people found charming forced across his features.

"Good evening," he said.

"Good evening, sir," the woman answered politely. She wasn't the one who had taken his money when he'd first come in, but her eyes had followed him as he'd come down the stairs, no doubt aware that he was a guest. "Is there anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable. Anything you or your companion require?"

"My 'companion'," Conrart said, the word curling around his tongue. He liked the way it felt in his mouth. Later, perhaps, they would pass as master and vassal, a role no doubt better suited to their stations. But for now, remaining hidden was key, and posing as lover would throw their pursuers off the trail. "He's exhausted," he said, offering the woman a grin just improper enough to be amusing without being too memorable. Enough to make her like him in the moment, but to forget him as soon as he walked away. "I'm going out to explore the town, but don't want him to worry if he wakes before I return. If he asks for me, would you ask him to stay here until I return?"

"Of course," the woman said with a warm smile, no doubt touched by his apparent thoughtfulness.

Conrart thanked her with a smile and a coin before making his way out of the inn, an air of casualness hanging badly on his frame. As soon as he was outside, he let his face set once more into it's natural apathetic state.

He had his own horse, but Yuuri would need a mount of his own if they were to make good time. The ride to Wincott would be three days at an easy pace. The memory of Yuuri's agonized expression told him that they didn't have that kind of time. They would need to trade horses along the way.

Conrart considered his purse with a frown. He had brought enough to provision himself for a leisurely trip to the estates, enjoying amusements along the way. But he wasn't certain it would be enough for what they needed now. With a sigh, he set the matter aside for consideration later. Right now he needed to focus on solving those problems he could.

There was a shop that offered the services of messenger pigeons nearby, and Conrart made his way their first. He would need to send word ahead to the Von Wincott estate, warning them of his arrival and the state of his charge. He also needed to be in touch with Yozak. His childhood friend had made his way through the army training at Conrart's side, but at Conrart's urging he'd accepted a posting more suited to his own talents. Namely in espionage. Still, he'd been making his own way, and the two had determined to meet up in a town known for its entertainment district as a farewell tour of sorts for the next few days.

Conrart would send the message there, knowing that it would find Yozak eventually. He knew he could count on his friend. Yozak would find the information, but he would have questions. Questions Conrart wasn't sure how to answer.

"Oh, someone's thinking hard," a familiar voice said beside him. Then a finger reached up to poke between his eyebrows. "Keep that up and you'll get wrinkles, Captain."

Conrart sighed, equal parts relieved and exasperated.

"Yozak."

"Conrart," Yozak said, a mocking lilt to his voice. His blue eyes were bright with mischief. "Business took less time than I thought. I figured I might run into you here. Thought we might as well travel together."

His eyes narrowed as he peered at Conrart, and he frowned.

"What is it? You seem more troubled than usual. Even for you."

"Not here," Conrart said, eyes studying their surroundings carefully. It didn't seem as if anyone were listening to them, but he couldn't be too careful. Not with how little he knew. "Is your horse rested?"

Yozak binked once, but his expression was serious when he answered, no doubt picking up on Conrart's mood.

"Not mine. But I know where you can hire one."

"Go," Conrart said, pressing his money bag into his friend's hands. "Enough provisions for three days hard ride. Meet me here," Conrart said, scribbling the name of the inn onto the paper he'd intended for Yozak's message and passing it to his friend.

"Rodger," Yozak said. His eyes were full of questions, but his expression was serious. He knew when Conrart was being his friend, and when he was being an officer. And he was a good enough soldier not to ask questions.

Conrart called upon those bits of statesmanship that he had picked up from his brother's lessons in the early days when he crafted his letter. It wasn't often he used his status as the son of the Maou for anything, but time was of the essence. As much as he hated relying on them, if his family connections were what was needed to get Yuuri the treatment he needed, then Conrart would use them.

With a heavy sigh, he signed the letter as Lord Luttenberg, Second son of Her Majesty Cecile Von Stoffle and sealed it with the seal he kept on his person but refused to wear.

When his family had rejected him, Conrart had become determined to make his own way in the world.  At sixteen, he'd made the decision to live as a Masoku. It was a decision he would abide by, no matter how difficult the trial.  He would fight for the rights of those like him, and would forge his own path, blazing a trail that other half-Mazoku could follow.

Nowhere was the prejudice more rampant than amongst the privileged world Conrart had been born into.  It had been a relief to leave it behind.  After Wolfram...after his reaction, Conrart had hardened his heart and turned his back on all of it.  He hadn't regretted it since.  If anything, it felt as if a burden had been lifted.  They could inflict no more hurts this way.  After all, his tie in Blood Pledge Caste had only brought him pain.

But if those connections that had caused him so much pain could help Yuuri in any small way, then he would use them.

Resigned, Conrart folded his letter and tucked it into the pigeon's pouch before launching it into the sky.

"Fly swiftly," Conrart said.

He watched until the pigeon disappeared in the distance before he turned and made his way towards the inn once more.  It was time to find some answers.

\----------

Yozak Gurrier sat in front of the fire at The Absent Hunter Inn and considered the situation carefully.  

He'd known Conrart Weller for nearly seventy years.  In all that time, he'd seen his friend in all sorts of situations. He'd seen him angry, resigned, in mourning. Even happy on occasion, though those were growing more and more rare. Conrart was a noble brat, it was true. In every sense of the word. After all, you needed connections to become an officer. And even though he had a face that could scare crying children into silence, he was chivalrous. And when someone had offended his chivalric sensibilities, then it was best to turn and run the other way.

This was obviously one of those times. Yozak almost felt bad for whoever it was who had managed to cross his dour friend this time.

Still, there was something off about the situation. For all that Conrart up in arms about a perceived injustice was nothing new, there was an unfamiliar edge to it this time. It reminded Yozak a little of times in the palace when Wolfram would come running to his older brother for comfort. Protective, yes. But there was something else.

Conrart was worried. And a worried Conrart meant the situation was more serious than usual. Which mean that Yozak could kiss his plans for the next few days goodbye.

Yozak heaved a sigh.

"Jeeze, Conrart, you sure don't make it easy, do you?"

There wasn't much he could do until he knew more, something which grated on him. Yozak liked being the one with all the information, and not knowing things made him antsy. It had bitten him in the ass more than once.

A snippet of conversation caught his attention, and Yozak looked up. He'd kept half an ear on his surroundings, just in case. Letting the conversation wash over him, only tuning in if anything caught his interest. And the conversation at the desk certainly did that.

It had started when a young man had come down from the rooms upstairs. Late teens if he was human, and anywhere from there to sixty if he wasn't. Yozak wouldn't have paid his presence any mind if it wasn't for the way the innkeeper waved him over.

"Oh, sir!" she said.

The man winced, like someone who'd been caught doing something they shouldn't, and still Yozak hadn't paid him any mind. Trying to sneak out on his bill, maybe.

"Yes?" he said, giving the girl a nervous smile that was still warm.

"Your partner left a message for you."

"Conrad did?" the man said. It was that name that had grabbed Yozak's attention, and he adjusted himself so that he could better hear without being obvious about it.

"Yes. He said that he wanted to see the town, but asked that you stay here until you returned."

"Ah," the man said, a smile on his face. "Thank you! But I need to stretch my legs. I won't go far."

Liar. And a really terrible one at that. Still, the innkeeper didn't notice, too charmed by his awkward laugh. Yozak couldn't blame her. Not really. He was undeniably attractive, this wayward lamb of Conrart's. Handsome, with brown eyes and orange hair. His coloring didn't suit him.

His clothes too were ragged. Well made, obviously. But they'd been through the wringer, covered in dirt and dark smears Yozak was certain were blood, torn and cut in places.

Anyone who was paying any kind of attention would have seen them immediately, intrigued by the contrast. If the guy was trying to fly under the radar, he was doing a terrible job of it.

But this was the person who had Conrart in a tizzy, and that meant that Yozak couldn't just let him walk away. He could stop him, sure, but there was an opportunity here. One that would maybe give him some answers. So Yozak stood, threw some coins on the table, and made his way towards the door, keeping several people between him and the young man he was following.

It was easy to keep his distance in the streets, using the crowds of people still out and about at this time of night to keep the man within sight at all times. There was a determined expression on the kid's face, though it was twisted up in pain. Each step look like it cost him something. Yozak was worried. If it looked like the kid was going to collapse, he'd make his move. But for now he would watch.

He kept his resolve until they got closer to the edge of town, and then he knew he had to step in. Kid was trying to run away without Conrart for some reason, and Yozak knew he couldn't let that happen.

"Oi, kiddo," he called.

The boy stiffened the way a child caught sneaking out might, and he turned around with a slightly sheepish expression on his face. But when he caught sight of Yozak, his entire face lit up, an expression of relieved delight making him practically shine.

"Yozak!" he cried in greeting. "Thank goodness!" he made his way over, a smile on his face, but as he grew closer he suddenly slowed, looking at Yozak in consternation.

Yozak knew that the expression on the kids' face was no doubt mirrored on his own. He wasn't anyone important. Not really. In fact, his work as a spy made his ability to blend in and not stick out imperative. To have been recognized by someone he'd never met before had thrown him through a loop.

The kid though...the kid looked like someone had taken his heart out of his chest and stepped on it right in front of him.

"You aren't him, are you?" he said, but his expression made it clear that he knew the answer.

God, if this was the way he'd looked at Conrart, no wonder the man was so twisted up in knots trying to figure out how to help him.

"Yozak Gurrier at your service," he said, pasting a ridiculous smile on his face as he effected an exaggerated bow. "So if that's who you were looking for, then you've found him."

"Gurrier who turns up at unexpected times in unexpected places, huh?" the boy said, a wry twist to his lips.

Yozak stared at him, mouth hanging open.  That was the phrase.  The one he said whenever he managed to sneak up on one of his friends, or was found somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. The only people who knew that phrase were ones he'd met before.  And he'd never met this boy. So how did he know?

At the sight of his expression, the young man flushed brightly, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he laughed nervously.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, gesturing as if to wave off the words.  "I don't know why I said that."

Yozak narrowed his eyes, but he set aside his suspicions for later.  There were other more important answers he needed more.

"That's me.  Unexpected time and unexpected places," Yozak said.  "But what about you?  Where are you going, kiddo?"

He gave Yozak a long look before his shoulders slumped, the fight going out of him.

"I need to get home," he said, clutching at something around his neck.

A pendant, maybe?  All Yozak could really tell was that it was on a leather cord, and that it looked like it might be blue.

"Conrart asked you to stay in the Inn, right?" Yozak said, crossing his arms and raising a single eyebrow.  "I know you want to get home, but he can help you.  So why'd you take off?"

He closed his eyes, a humorless smile on his face.

"I'm tired of it," he said.

"Huh?"

He opened his eyes again, and when he did there was pain in them.  The kind that was experienced only in the deepest part of the heart.  Looking at him now, it was clear that he wasn't a boy.  He'd seen too much for that.

"I'm tired of people getting hurt for me," he said.  "Tired of leaving people behind while I run away to safety.  I can't...I can't let anyone else get hurt for me.  So I had to..."

He bit his lip, his eyes watering.  He sniffed in a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes, a forced smile on his face.

"I'll be fine," he said.  "I can take care of myself."

When he took his hand away, Yozak sucked in a breath through his teeth.  One of the contacts he was wearing had fallen out, and staring back at him was an eye as black as night.

"It would hurt him, you know," Yozak said, focusing on the conversation at hand.  "You running off without a word.  That would hurt Conrad.  You don't want that, right?"

It was true.  Yozak was sure of that much.  Conrart was too worried about the kid not to fly into a blind panic as soon as he found him missing.

"I know," the kid said with a sigh.  "I know.  But..."

"But?" Yozak asked, leaning against a nearby wall.

"I don't want to lie to him," he said softly.  "Conrad.  I've never been able to lie to him.  And even now, when he doesn't know me...he still does.  I don't want to hurt him by making him think I don't trust him."

It was crazy.  But possible.  He'd heard of Maryoku do crazier things.  And there were artifacts that were known to do work like this.

"So then don't," Yozak said.

"Huh?" the boy said, looking up at him.

"Don't lie to him.  Tell him the truth.  I'm sure he can help.  That's what friends do after all, isn't it?  Even if one of them is from the future."

The expression on the man's face told him he'd gotten it right.  His own freak out could wait until they were off the street.  For now, it was time to get them back to the Inn, before Conrart figured otu the kid was gone and tore the city apart looking for him.

"Come on," Yozak said, reaching out and putting an arm around the man's shoulder, equal parts reassuring and restraining.  "Let's go find Conrart, and work on getting this sorted out."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing is still kind of rusty, but I'm just trying to get my mojo back. Hopefully you all enjoy it anyway.

Yuuri let Yozak lead him back towards the inn, towards Conrad, and he tried his best to put his emotions into some sort of order.

He'd been to the past before. The demon mirror had seen to that. But the only time he'd been able to effect real change had been at Shinou's will. Otherwise, he was only an observer, looking into the past.

This was something entirely different. There had been no demon mirror. No Shinou. That much he knew. This had been an attack. One directed at him. And he had a sinking suspicion that sending him into the past had been an accident. After all, why would anyone have bothered doing something that would do this? What purpose could his enemies have in sending him back in time?

Seeing Conrad now was a blow. Conrad was Conrad, that much was true. Yuuri knew that at his core, Conrad was the same. He was still the man who told terrible jokes and was far too quick to sacrifice himself, especially for Yuuri. Incredibly protective, and incredibly skilled.

But this was not his Godfather. This was the Lion of Ruttenberg, though he hadn't earned that title yet. It had come as a shock, to look up and find himself face-to-face with a man he'd only ever heard stories about.

Because this Conrad didn't smile to cover up the pain that Yuuri knew lurked deep in his heart. This Conrad wore it on his face for all to see.

Yuuri wanted nothing more than to do whatever it took to see that smile again. Not the one that meant he was trying to hide something, but a real one. The kind that had his eyes crinkled up in the corners, his mouth in that gentle curve. The subtle hints of silver dancing in his eyes.

Conrad should always be smiling, as far as Yuuri was concerned.

Time had healed some of the wounds that Conrad carried. But for this Conrad? They were still open and raw. It was all Yuuri could do not to reach out and soothe them.

He couldn't though. This was the past. And he was terrified that if he changed it, something terrible would happen, destroying the future he and his friends had worked so hard for. Could he really let all the sacrifices they had all made go to waste like that?

But Yuuri knew himself better than that. He couldn't stand by and let people stuffer. Not when there was something he could do about it. Anything he could do about it. And he knew, that, if pressed, he would intervene. Would do whatever it took to save this country that had become his home, to spare these people to who meant everything to him.

And he couldn't let Conrad sacrifice anything for him. Not ever again, if he had a choice.

So he had left. But Yozak knew. Yozak had found him out. And as good an actor as Yozak was, Yuuri knew the man from his time had never met him before. If he knew Yuuri at all, he wouldn't have been worried about half the things he had been.

So, the future had already been changed. That was obvious. And while Yuuri would do what he could to keep the changes to a minimum, he couldn't stand by and let people be hurt. Especially the people he cared about. Not if there was something he could do about it.

Yozak stopped, and Yuuri was so caught up in his thoughts that he nearly ran into the man's back. As it was he still stumbled a little when it came time to stop.

"Hey, Conrart!" Yozak called.

Standing in front of the inn, sure enough, was a man Yuuri would always know anywhere, a very familiar frantic expression on his face. Yuuri winced. The last thing he'd wanted to do was worry Conrad. He'd been hoping to leave before the man felt responsible for him. It seemed like he'd been too late. The look on his face was on Yuuri was intimately familiar with. It was the one Conrad wore whenever Yuuri somehow managed to slip away from Conrad and the rest of his guard without the other man knowing about it. It wasn't an expression Yuuri saw often. Sometimes it fel like his godfather knew him better than he knew himself.

"Yozak!" Conrart said, practically sprinting to close the distance between them, a desperate look on his face.

"Found him," Yozak said, stepping aside to reveal Yuuri before Conrad could say a word.

Conrad stared at him, and Yuuri felt every hair on his body stand on end. Crap, that was a scary face. Yuuri almost never saw Conrad mad, but when he did, it was this face he wore.

"Conrad," Yuuri stuttered out. "I'm so..."

Before he had a chance to finish his apology, familiar arms wrapped around him, dragging him close as Conrad pulled him against his chest. Yuuri let his eyes fall closed, resting his head against the familiar chest, a feeling of safety he'd found nowhere else calming his racing heart.

"Yuuri," Conrad said, his voice raw and desperate. "Yuuri."

He'd been thoughtless, hadn't he? In trying not to create trouble, he'd only hurt the man he cared for most in the world.

"I'm sorry," Yuuri said, wrapping his arms around Conrad and holding him tightly. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

"Don't," Conrart said, his voice harsh. "Don't do that to me again."

Yuuri closed his eyes, a bittersweet smile on his face. Conrad was Conrad. Always.

"I promise," he said, leaning further against the other man's chest.

Yuuri wasn't sure how long he stood there, taking comfort in Conrad's embrace. When he was here, nothing else seemed to matter. But it was long enough that when Yozak spoke, Yuuri felt himself start. He'd forgotten the other man was there.

"We should head inside," Yozak said. "As heartwarming as this is, we're starting to get some looks."

Yuuri felt Conrad's chest shift beneath his ear as the man took a deep breath.

"Right," he said, pulling back at last. "Inside then."

Yuuri felt his heart clench uncomfortably as Conrad pulled away, already missing his warmth. But instead of withdrawing completely, as Yuuri was afraid he would, Conrad left one arm draped around his shoulder. To keep him close, Yuuri realized. To make sure he didn't stray again. After all, it would only take a twist of his hand to have the fabric of Yuuri's shirt clenched in his fist, carting him around like a lion would transport an unruly cub.

Yuuri felt a shiver go through him at the thought of the strength in Conrad's muscles, of what it would feel like to be carried around as if he weighed nothing. But he quickly shoved the thought aside, fighting the flush on his face. He'd caused enough trouble. He shouldn't cause any more.

The three of them made their way back into the Inn, trading a few words with the innkeeper before they made their way upstairs. Conrad gestured with his head towards the door to their room, and Yozak pulled it open. They all made their way inside.

Conrad didn't let go of him when they crossed the threshold, the way Yuuri expected. Instead he steered him over to the bed, pushing him down onto the straw matress. For a long moment, Conrad stood there, staring down at Yuuri with an insense expression on his face, sparks of silver flashing in his eyes with barely reigned in emotion.

"Why?" he asked at last, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. "Why did you run, Yuuri? Do you not trust me?"

"No!" Yuuri said, shooting to his feet without meaning to, his hands coming to rest on Conrad's shoulders. "No, that's not it at all!"

"Then what?" Conrad asked, staring at him with flashing eyes. "If not that, then what?"

Yuuri closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I don't trust myself," he said, voice soft.

Conrad's brow furrowed in confusion, and Yuuri took a deep breath. He knew if he didn't say anything, Yozak would.

"This is going to sound crazy," he said, fighting to keep his voice from trembling. "But...I..."

He couldn't do it. No matter how much he tried, he could force the words past his lips. He shot Yozak a desperate look, hoping that the other man would help.

"The young master here is from the future," Yozak said, a bright smile on his face where he leaned against the wall.

Conrad jerked back a step, and Yuuri let himself sit on the bed once more, staring at the wooden floor between his feet. He didn't want to see the expression on Conrad's face. He didn't think he could stand to see the man he trusted most in the world doubting him. After all, Conrad had always believed in him. Even when Yuuri didn't believe in himself. He was barely holding himself together now. If he looked up at Conrad now, saw that the support he counted on most was gone, he thought he might shatter.

"Yeah," Yuuri said, reaching up to rub at his face. "Yeah, I'm from the future."

He winced as his fist dug into his eye, letting out a small "ow!" He'd grown used to wearing contacts, but that didn't make them any more comfortable. It still felt like he had grit in his eye. But it was always so much worse after falling asleep in them, a bit of sand turning into gravel. It really spoke to how distracted he'd been before now that he hadn't noticed.

"Ouch," he said again.

With a heavy sigh, he reached towards his eye, fighting the urge to flinch as he did. Putting the contacts on and taking them off was always the worst part. He knew as irrirated as his eye was now it would be even worse than usual.

He was right. As soon as he touched the small lens, he fliched.

"Crap," he whispered to himself. He knew the longer he left them in, the worse it would be, but the thought of toucing the contact long enough to take it out had him seriously unhappy.

The floor creaked and Yuuri looked up to find Conrad kneeling before him. His expression was still dark, but his features seemed softer somehow, as if the sharp edges and angles of his face were somehow blunted

"Here," he said. "Let me."

Yuuri smiled at him, eyes watering with gratitude. Not just for the help with the contacts, though the familiarity of the scene was enough to make his chest ache. But if Conrad would do this for him, even after what Yozak had just said...

Conrad was Conrad. Always. No matter how far from home he was, how crazy things were, Yuuri could count on that.

"Look up," Conrad told him.

Yuuri did, fighting his blink reflex as Conrad pulled down his lower eyelid before the man's finger filled his field of view. Yuuri could feel the contact slide down before the pressure was gone, the small lens resting on Conrad's finger.

"Got it," Conrad said. He looked down at the lens and frowned. "It's too dry," he said. "I think it's probably a loss." He looked up at Yuuri only to freeze when their eyes met, his eyes widening.

"Black eyes," he said, his surprise obvious.

Yuuri sighed. He'd never had this reaction from Conrad. His time on earth had ensured that his godfather wasn't as awed by his appearance, as common as it was there. But Yuuri was used to dealing with these reactions. Reverance was better than revulsion, though he wasn't fond of either. Still, he knew Conrad wouldn't treat him differently once he knew.

"Black hair too," Yuuri said. Might as well get everything out of the way at once.

Yozak whistled from the corner.

"Double-black, huh?" he said.

Yuuri turned and gave him a weak smile. "Yep. Double black."

Conrad said nothing, and Yuuri chanced a glance up at him, feeling awkward. He needed to change the subject before things got worse.

"Can you help me with the other one?" he asked.

Conrad just reached forward and brushed his hand against Yuuri's chest. When he pulled it back, Yuuri could see the small circle resting against one finger.

"They're totally dried out," he said with a frown before his gaze fixed on a point over Yuuri's shoulder. "Yozak, do you have any?"

"Of course," Yozak said, sounding affronted. "Who do you take me for?"

"Different hair color too," Conrad said thoughtfully, reaching up and brushing a strand out of Yuuri's face before twirling it between his fingers. "The more we can change his appearance the better."

"I'll have something ready tomorrow, no problem," Yozak said.

"No drag!" Yuuri said at once, visions of the maid costume he'd been forced dancing behind his eyes. "I absolutely refuse!"

"Aw," Yozak said, walking until he was standing where Yuuri could see him, an exaggerated frown on his face. "You're no fun, young master. You'd make such a cute girl, too!"

"No drag," Yuuri said again, giving him a hard look.

"Fine," Yozak said, leaning against the wall.

Conrad stood from his crouch suddenly, stalking across the room before he grabbed the chair by the fireplace and dragged it across from the bed.

"So," he said, his voice soft, "the future, huh?"

Yuuri nodded. Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his palms against his trousers as he stared at the floor again.

"Yes," he said. "I'm sorry."

"We know each other," Conrad said again. "That's why you ran to me. Why you knew my name."

"Yes," Yuuri said again, forcing his voice past the tightness in his throat.

"How far? How far into the future are you from."

Yuuri bit his lip, glancing up at Conrad from under his eyes before he shook his head.

"I...I'm sorry. The future...I don't want to risk changing anything. Not anything else."

There was a creaking sound, and Yuuri looked up to find that Conrad had leaned back in his chair.

"That's why you ran," he said, understanding dawning. "To try and keep anything from changing."

"Yes," Yuuri said, before he cast a look at Yozak. "I trust you, Conrad. I trust you with everything. And I can't lie to you. So I knew if I stayed..." Yuuri trailed off and shrugged his shoulders. "But it's too late for that now. Still...I need to change as little as possible. So, I'm sorry. But please don't ask me any questions," he said. "Becuase I'll answer you. Even if I know I shouldn't. I can't do anything else."

Conrad reached out and placed a hand on Yuuri's thigh, his expression serious.

"Alright, Yuuri," he said. "I understand. And I promise I'll do whatever it takes to get you home."

* * *

 

The sun had been setting when Yozak had brought Yuuri back. An hour later twilight was beginning to fade into nightfall, and the group had taken supper in the room, discussing their plans for the coming days.

"So, Conrad, kiddo," Yozak said once the door was shut firmly behind the maid. "Where to?"

"I was planning to go to the Von Wincott estate," Conrad said, noting with interest the way Yuuri stiffened at the name. So he'd been right, then. The pendant Yuuri wore did bear the Von Wincott crest, as he had thought. "There are some side effects from whatever brought you here, Yuuri, and I Lady Suzana Julia to examine you. She's the best healer there is."

"Julia?" Yuuri said, his face lighting up, eyes soft before he seemed to catch himself. "I..."

"She'll need to know," Conrad said, leaning forward. "I don't think she could properly treat you, if she didn't know."

Yuuri bit his lip, his conflict written plainly on his face.

No wonder he had thought running would be the only way to keep things from Conrart. His face was an open book.

"We'll explain things, kiddo," Yozak said, reading Yuuri's expression easily before giving Conrart a look from the corner of his eyes, and Conrart could see his own thoughts mirrored there. "You don't have to worry about it."

Yuuri heaved out a sigh, an expression of serious thought on his face before his shoulders slumped and he nodded.

"Okay," he said. "Yeah, that...that's the only way, huh?"

"Yes," Conrart said firmly.

"What about after that?" Yozak asked. "How are we going to get the young master home?"

"Shinou," Yuuri said, and Conrart found himself glancing sharply at him out of the corner of his eye.

The great one was a fact of life in Shin Makoku. Conrart owed his life to His Majesty Shinou. After all, he had approved the marriage of his mother, the 26th Maou, and the human swordsman, Dan Hiri Weller.

But he'd never heard anyone refer to His Majesty Shinou in the tone of voice Yuuri had used. Like the first Maou who defeated the originators was a pesky sibling.

"Even if he can't send me back, he should at least have some advice or a starting point," Yuuri said. " And I guess we should probably talk to Anissina," he said, like the words were being dragged out of him. "But I really don't want to."

Conrart has no doubts about where Yuuri was from. Or, more accurately, when Yuuri was from. But every minute only served as more confirmation. Only someone who knew Anissina personally would react like that.

Conrart couldn't help but smile. The expression on Yuuri's face was one he'd seen often enough on Gwendal's growing up as his brother tried to escape from the inventor. Some things, it would seem, never changed.

Dinner should have been awkward. Conrart was not one for small talk, and Yuuri had made it clear that he wouldn't answer questions about his past - about their future. It should have been filled with meaningless chatter, lead by Yozak, whose job it was to put people at ease.

He was wrong.

Yuuri was full of questions, his enthusiasm evident and impossible to curb. Yet he was still so cautious of the feelings of those around him, wary of stepping on any toes.

They talked almost entirely of human country, Yuuri carefully avoiding providing specifics about how he had ended up so traveled, but sharing stories of his own misadventures in exchange for tales about Conrart's time on the road with his father, and his time on the road traveling by himself after the man had died.

Conrart found himself feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time, and when Yuuri told a particularly bad pun, he actually burst into laughter.

It stopped as soon as it had started, Conrart actually startled by the sound. When was the last time he had actually let himself laugh? How long had it been, since the resentment coiled deep inside him had been loosened enough that he could?

Yozak looked just as startled as Conrart, if not more so. He schooled his expression quickly, but Conrart had caught the way his friend was gaping.

The only one not surprised by the outburst was Yuuri.

"I'm glad it worked," he said with a smile. "You have a terrible sense of humor, you know."

"You're the one who told the joke," Conrart pointed out. "Isn't your sense of humor to blame?"

"I just wanted to make you smile," Yuuri said, dark eyes filled with warm, a small, soft smile on his face. "I missed your smile. And you're always trying to cheer me up. It's only fair that I returned the favor."

Conrart felt his heart beat sharply against his chest, warm coursing through his veins.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to be calm. To show nothing. It shouldn't have been hard. After all, he'd been told more than once that he had a sour disposition.

Taking a deep breath, he smiled, looking at Yuuri with a warmth that was far too real for comfort.

"Thank you, Yuuri. I'll do my best to keep smiling from now on."

Somehow, Conrart didn't think it would be as hard as he had imagined.


End file.
